The Girl from Montana | Page 9

precipices
down into a rocky gorge, where the moonlight seemed repelled by dark,
bristling evergreen trees growing half-way up the sides. She could hear
the rush and clamor of a tumbling mountain stream in the depths below.
Once she fancied she heard a distant shot, and the horse pricked up his
ears, and went forward excitedly.
But at last the dawn contended with the night, and in the east a faint
pink flush crept up. Down in the valley a mist like a white feather rose
gently into a white cloud, and obscured everything. She wished she
might carry the wall of white with her to shield her. She had longed for
the dawn; and now, as it came with sudden light and clear revealing of
the things about her, it was almost worse than night, so dreadful were
the dangers when clearly seen, so dangerous the chasms, so angry the
mountain torrents.
With the dawn came the new terror of being followed. The man would
have no fear to come to her in the morning, for murdered men were not
supposed to haunt their homes after the sun was up, and murderers
were always courageous in the day. He might the sooner come, and
find her gone, and perhaps follow; for she felt that he was not one
easily to give up an object he coveted, and she had seen in his evil face
that which made her fear unspeakably.
As the day grew clearer, she began to study the surroundings. All
seemed utter desolation. There was no sign that any one had ever
passed that way before; and yet, just as she had thought that, the horse

stopped and snorted, and there in the rocks before them lay a man's hat
riddled with shot. Peering fearfully around, the girl saw a sight which
made her turn icy cold and begin to tremble; for there, below them, as
if he had fallen from his horse and rolled down the incline, lay a man
on his face.
For the instant fear held her riveted, with the horse, one figure like a
statue, girl and beast; the next, sudden panic took hold upon her.
Whether the man were dead or not, she must make haste. It might be he
would come to himself and pursue her, though there was that in the
rigid attitude of the figure down below that made her sure he had been
dead some time. But how had he died? Scarcely by his own hand. Who
had killed him? Were there fiends lurking in the fastnesses of the
mountain growth above her?
With guarded motion she urged her horse forward, and for miles
beyond the horse scrambled breathlessly, the girl holding on with shut
eyes, not daring to look ahead for fear of seeing more terrible sights,
not daring to look behind for fear of--what she did not know.
At last the way sloped downward, and they reached more level ground,
with wide stretches of open plain, dotted here and there with sage-brush
and greasewood.
She had been hungry back there before she came upon the dead man;
but now the hunger had gone from her, and in its place was only
faintness. Still, she dared not stop long to eat. She must make as much
time as possible here in this open space, and now she was where she
could be seen more easily if any one were in pursuit.
But the horse had decided that it was time for breakfast. He had had
one or two drinks of water on the mountain, but there had been no time
for him to eat. He was decidedly hungry, and the plain offered nothing
in the shape of breakfast. He halted, lingered, and came to a neighing
stop, looking around at his mistress. She roused from her lethargy of
trouble, and realized that his wants--if not her own--must be attended
to.

She must sacrifice some of her own store of eatables, for by and by
they would come to a good grazing-place perhaps, but now there was
nothing.
The corn-meal seemed the best for the horse. She had more of it than of
anything else. She poured a scanty portion out on a paper, and the beast
smacked his lips appreciatively over it, carefully licking every grain
from the paper, as the girl guarded it lest his breath should blow any
away. He snuffed hungrily at the empty paper, and she gave him a little
more meal, while she ate some of the cold beans, and scanned the
horizon anxiously. There was nothing but sage-brush in sight ahead of
her, and more hills farther on where dim outlines of trees could be seen.
If she could but get up higher where she could see farther, and perhaps
reach a bench